the 100th Hunger Games: Young Justice
by Vuraangreg
Summary: The second rebellion has failed. All the rebels, including the mockingjay, Peeta and all of D13 have been killed (except or Coin, who became President). All of the heroes and sidekicks that were rebelling, were all killed, except for one small songbird. And that bird, the original Robin, Dick Grayson, has been Reaped for the 100th Hunger Games. Rated T for the Games
1. Prologue part I

_Hey folks, this is the prologue of my first HG/YJ story. I don't know if this is a good idea, but I will continue once I get 5__ reviews. The concept is quite easy to understand: the Fourth Quarter Quell is coming up, and Dick Grayson just had to be Reaped (as Richard Wayne) and has to compete. And the others? You'll find out if you read this. I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice. Enjoy!_

_-Vuraangreg_

* * *

The rebellion has failed. The rebels have failed. And so did we, heroes from each of the twelve remaining districts. We failed. We failed everyone: the rebels, the districts, even the Capitol. Everyone. The rebellion is over now, but I can still remember the day as if it happened yesterday.

We, a special team of people who somehow gained superpowers or –strength during the years, were brought together in long lost District 13 to prepare to take down the Capitol. I have never liked those stupid people, especially the President who caused the death of my parents in the first place. Snow. When Katniss Everdeen and her team got killed by those reptile-like-mutts (and Peeta), we were send to infiltrate into the Capitol to take it down from the inside. Batman didn't like the idea we had to give up our secret identity for that, but we had no choice. We had to stop this once and for all.

We were put in teams, each containing two heroes and a sidekick. I was in team 286K, along with the Flash and Green Arrow. First Coin had the idea of replacing the Flash for Hawkman, but she didn't after Batman could convince her to keep Barry in our team (by use of the Batglare). We were sent to the palace, and had orders to stay with our team members and not to talk to other teams – even that could look suspicious.

When we saw the parachutes, we had orders to go away from them, and to do nothing. Green Arrow didn't agree with that, and he shot one explosive arrow to the parachutes. They went off – it were bombs. Flash ran towards the Capitol-children, grabbed everyone he could and brought them to safer places. He chose the place the heroes had to come to after the parachutes. After all the wounded Capitol-citizens were at that place, all the heroes came there, too.

I knew something was wrong. Batman explained me the grown heroes knew the parachutes were from Coin. Kid Flash wanted to run to 13 with Flash to kill Coin, but we stopped them. First Snow. Then Coin. Batman's orders were clear. We didn't realize there was still one pod left, made by Plutarch Heavensbee and activated by Coin after our betrayal.

The pod made a smoke around us, so we couldn't see each other anymore. We were separated from each other by the smoke, until I bumped into KF. Or, he bumped into me. When the smoke faded away, almost everyone was gone. There were no signs of fights around us, so they could never killed them all with the smoke. Especially the Batman – he was prepared for situations like this. But none of the adults had survived. Kid Flash, Artemis and I travelled through the Capitol and further for at least six hours, when we saw them.

It were peacekeepers, but also mutts. Human mutts, created to break and destroy us three. The other members of the League and the sidekicks. Especially 'Batman', 'Green Arrow' and 'Flash' did their best to kill or at least break us. Killing us seemed a lot heavier for them, so those mutts broke us and a lot of our bones. And they killed Artemis and Kid Flash when they tried to protect me by tracking down some of the resting mutts.

We were there, I was there, I saw how our friends got slaughtered. I am the only one who stayed alive, out of the amounts of heroes who were actually assigned for this mission – I was the only remaining hero. In the Capitol, they offered me to hijack me, but I refused. I was surprised when they respected my decision. They offered me to freeze me instead, for twenty years. I accepted that – I was desperate and had no idea what to do now all of my friends were dead. But to keep them in mind forever and ever.

After I woke up, twenty years later, I stayed a month in the Capitol to catch up with what happened those twenty years before they sent me to 3. Still the district with the electronics. I had there no friends, no family I could trust. The only real family I had, was killed in the Capitol, twenty years ago, by both Snow and Coin, who was the previous President of Panem before she died. A new president was chosen, a man who still kept up the Games.

The day I swore revenge for my death parents, I didn't get the chance to fulfill that oath. This time, I swore I would kill the new president, if I get the chance. Coin caused my friends to death, along with Snow. It were her rebels, it were his mutts. They both are responsible for what I've been through, and for the deaths of my friends, and the new president I'll kill for keeping the cruel Games that caused the second rebellion in the first place.

I swear by the honor and thought of my friends, mentors and other heroes that one day, I will kill the president of Panem because he kept the Games, and to bring peace to all of the 11 remaining Districts of Panem.

* * *

_So, that was it. What did you think about it? By the way, "I" is Robin. If you have any arena ideas, I would be glad to use it. And maybe, maybe, **maybe** I'll have some of the others YJ-members in the Games. And if so, who and presenting which District? Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write you see..._


	2. Ch 1: the Reaping

_So, here's the first chapter. Just to inform you: a lot of others will make a guest appearance, either as citizen in one of the Districts or in the Capitol. I also have an idea where I want to go with my story, so I'll include also the Victory Tour... well, half that Tour, only the Districts where the Victor had his allies (if I give him/her any). _

_Ailes du neige: Glad you like it!_

_Guest: Well, I have so my plans, and I can't promise anything. When I reach the countdown, I might as well have a whole other idea of who I'll use than now..._

_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it.__ **I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice.** Enjoy!_

_-Vuraangreg_

* * *

**Reaping Day**

Dick woke up, panting. He was having the dream again. The dream, in what the ghosts of his friends were haunting him in the Capitol, with the voices of Coin and Snow, and an additional voice of the current president of Panem. But when he felt he was still lying in his bed, he was a bit sure of himself, again. Well, as sure he could get after the rebellion.

After his arrival in Three, the people were as desperate as he was. They were nice on him, because he was still a child (though twenty years older) and came from another District because his family was 'humiliating him and hurting him every second of the day'. Dick fastly met some boys who recognized him and kept his secret. Jason Todd, orphan and adoptive brother. Tim Drake, son of the Head-Peacekeeper. He trained those two like he was trained by Batman. The thought of him made Dick want to cry sometimes, but he didn't. That all happened in the past, and if those guys ever were going to get Reaped, they had to be prepared for the arena, which fitted the rebellion situation more and more. _If one of them ever gets Reaped, and dies, I'll run away from the district, infiltrate in the Capitol and kill both the president and the Head-Gamemaker. maybe all Gamemakers if I get the chance_, he thought; it was the promise he made four years ago.

A small boy with black hair was standing in front of Dick. The boy had a look in his eyes he knew out of thousands. Fear.

"You'll be okay, don't worry." he said, which relaxed the boy a bit. He still hesitated. "No, I won't!" he said. Dick sighed and stood up.

"Jason, you won't get Reaped, I know that. Have you missed the Quell?" Every twenty-five years, there was a rule-change in the rules. In the first Quell, the people had to reap their own tributes. The fifty Games had forty-eight tributes. The third Quell was one with twenty-four winners, to get a new (failed) rebellion. This year, the 100th Games were coming up, but this year, there only would be eleven tributes, but with people between the ages fourteen and twenty-five, to 'remember the sidekicks who fought at the side of the heroes or on their own in the rebellion'.

Not the best Quell, if you asked Dick.

Before they went the market square, they first searched Tim and found him fast. Well, he found them.

"And? Are you ready for the Reaping?" He asked them, smiling. Dick smiled back.

"We are, but if you keep that optimistic, you might get Reaped," Jason said. The two had never really liked each other, and Tim never had to take _tesserae_, because of his father's job – Head Peacekeeper of Three. At the other hand, Dick took _tesserae _and Jason too, and they hoped every year the odds were in their favor. They were until now.

Tim turned to Dick. "And you, Dick? Ready to fly like a robin in the arena?"

"If you keep saying things like that, I might kill you one day." Tim laughed after a second.

"Very funny, Rob." Tim said, as he went to the market place. Realizing it wouldn't be that long until the Reaping, Jason and Dick followed Tim.

"Came to apologize?" He asked, but when Dick glared at him, he was silent and didn't dare asking for more. After those years, Dick had mastered the Bat-glare. It didn't feel that right to use, but sometimes he had no choice. They pricked their fingers and they walked into the crowd, that was bigger than usual. But this time, it were people between fourteen and twenty-five, so more people could get Reaped.

_The Mayor walked onto the stage and fastly read the Treaty of Treason we already knew by heart. There was only a small part added to it – about the second rebellion, the 'girl on fire' and the fallen heroes. At the end of it, there was one part extra I never had heard before. I missed the first part of it, because I wasn't really paying attention. "… could flee. Now they'll come together to fight to death." _

_What did that mean? They'll come together to fight to death. Did they mean they would Reap the heroes? I was confused, because that was impossible – I'm the only hero that remained… wasn't I?_

_A woman walked upon the stage, in the strange Capitol-style with blue hair and looked more like a Barbie-doll than anything else._

_"Hello District 3, and happy Hunger Games! I'm your new escort, Tello Marmi!" We (the people of Three) just stared at her, and she glared at the crowd. I bet she hoped they would clap and cheer for her. If I had still the courage, I would've shouted she better kept practicing her glare, what looked like a very bad imitation of the famous Bat-glare, which could people make laugh. Well, it made me laugh a bit._

_"Before we start the Reaping, we have an announcement for you all the way from the Capitol," Tello said, a bit irritated before starting the video. Always the same video was played, always the same words and the same things were showed. There were also shots added about the fallen heroes, but not that much: Martian Manhunter and his niece; a red-and-yellow blur from both Flashes; Finnick, Katniss and their team that got eaten by those reptile-mutts; the three archers in the back and a lot more. This time it was different. President Luthor, president since the ninety-first Games, sat at his 'throne' and started to speak after this video._

_"People of Panem, two months earlier, the rule-change of the Fourth Quarter Quell was announced. I'll be giving you some more information about this. For once, you can choose your hero. And you'll be presenting him/her in the arena, and you'll be threatened like heroes. And remember: everyone will be your enemy, and nobody is allowed to volunteer. Now, happy Hunger Games, everyone." _

_I let all the information sink in. Only strong and smart people can volunteer this year. The tributes will be threatened like heroes. The tributes are like your enemies. Didn't really had a difference between the real life of a hero in Old America or a hero that died in the Second Rebellion, I thought._

_How did I even know there were heroes in Old America?_

_"Well, may the odds be ever in your favor." Tello said before her hand disappeared between the names of a thousand citizens of District Three. It was stuck in there for seconds, what seemed like ages, before she grabbed one slip. She opened it and said the name. The name I expected to be in this year, or else to be in it next year._

"Richard Wayne." Dick was introduced with that name into the District, because he might get some attention. They chose another back name, and they came up with Wayne. Like the Head-Peacekeeper of 12 when he disappeared like his adoptive son, Dick. He didn't refuse it – it reminded him of Bruce's good moments, and helped him through a tough period he called life.

Most people would react happy or afraid when their name got Reaped, but Dick wasn't either of them. He was angry. Angry because they Reaped him, to be a pawn in their maniest Games, to be threatened like a hero, while they (don't) know he was the previous Robin. But he walked up onto the stage, and looked at Tello. He wanted to tell her his name was Dick, but he didn't. Before the rebellion he was Dick Grayson, and after the rebellion he became Richard Wayne.

"Well, one big hand for this lovely young man and District 3's newest tribute!" The crowd clapped, but it looked forced and the people didn't hide their happiness that they weren't Reaped, and their hate for the Capitol. Though they kept themselves quiet – they knew what could happen with them. They could get killed, or became an Avox.

Dick found the faces of Tim and Jason in the crowd, and they both looked quite shocked. Because he was Reaped. All Dick could do to make them more confident, was smiling at them and the people of 3.

But he had a whole other feeling inside.

* * *

_Well, next chapter includes goodbyes, the train rides and other Reapings. When something in the chapter is in italics (like this) it's been told by Dick himself. When something in the chapter is normal _(like this)_ it's just third POV. Hope it wasn't that confusing. __If you have any arena ideas, I would be glad to use it. And maybe I'll have some of the others YJ-members in the Games. And if so, who and presenting which District? Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write you see..._


	3. Ch 2: Get to know the enemies

_Here's the second chapter, y'all! The reason that this took a while, is that I want to finish my last story first. But once in a while I will update, I promise! __This will also include the (personal) Reaping in District 1 and District 6 – except for Dick, these two are the most important characters. The Reapings from the others will be just mentioned in Dick's part. Any arena ideas will be welcome!_

_platypuslover:__ I know one thing, and that is that I don't want to spoil anything, and the main reason is that I don't know if others could make an appearance. But now you know already Jason and Tim are Dick's friends, and Lex is president… and I'm sorry for killing the Bat – well, that's one of the characters I "killed" and won't revive – it sounds bad, and I feel bad for doing this, for this story it is necessary._

_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it.__ **I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice.** Enjoy!_

_-Vuraangreg_

* * *

Reaping day. The day most teenagers in District 1 were looking forward to. When the eighteen-year-olds from previous year thought it would be their last year, they were wrong. It wasn't. They now got one more chance, one out of thousands to get Reaped and finally be a Tribute and, later on, a Victor.

One last chance for really becoming someone people looked up at…

"Good morning, District 1, and happy hunger games!" the Escort said to the people of District 1. The crowd looked anxious to get Reaping, even more now nobody could volunteer.

Most of the older people, age 21-25 had already lost the spirit of training for the Games, since it was at least three years ago they had any chance of being in the Games. Some of the twelve and thirteen-years-old were glad they couldn't get Reaped – they had now at least one more year extra to enjoy their lives. That only leaves the section with the 14- to 19-year-old… they had been training like hell for if they were going to get Reaped – it was the Quarter Quell, the only one they ever had the chance to compete in, and as much as they wanted to be the most famous victor of the past few years, they had to ensure they were going to get Reaped.

His hand went in the Reaping bowl, and came out slowly, as if it were a bomb. He opened the slip and spoke with a loud voice, so practically everyone of 1 could hear it as if they were there themselves.

"Conan Lane!" his voice said, and in the twenty-year-old section, people began to look at this boy, who looked rather confused. When it hit him, his face grew pale. No… not now… he couldn't be Reaped, not after what he had been through.

Conan's father was killed by the Capitol during the rebellion, and an angry Conan was frozen in by them, to be set in District 1 just three years ago. His mother died at his birth, but there are rumors this young man may be related with President Luthor, but he ignored this most of the time. Now, he'd lost his final chance to lead a normal life, which already was taken away by the Capitol by placing him in a completely different District he came from.

* * *

"This year's tribute from District 6 is…" the name had been called, and people looked all the way at the eighteen-year-old young man standing there, smiling. People rolled their eyes, as he started to smile when he had heard his name. this was his last year, like all of his new-made friends, but none of them wished for him to go in the Games. They say he's not serious enough for the Games, they say he can't take it.

Ever since his arrival in the District, after moving from 10 to 6, they could read from his face it was a prankster, a bit at the dumb side, but this redhead wasn't. He pretended to be like that, he wasn't really that prankster. He could take things serious, but didn't show that. He could still laugh when something bad happened in 6, referring that 'he had gone through something more bad than that small accident'.

Before anyone had to call him for the second time, he was walking up, to the stage, to his old Escort (already 47!). Well, he was old if you had to believe this brand new tribute. Once he was looking over at the District, he grabbed the microphone and walked to the left side of the stage.

"Well, I want to say a few words to the people of the District who had been so nice to me or pestered me to death. Well, I'm probably never seeing you again so I just w–" The peacekeepers took the microphone back, and it cut the boy off, who looked a bit offended because he couldn't end his 'farewell-speech'.

"Big hand for this year's tribute," the Escort said, not even wanting to say the ginger boy's name out loud anymore. Their eyes met in a brief moment, the electric blue of the Escort and the green ones of the Tribute, and in that moment the young boy could say this one thing to his escort.

_We're going to have much fun together…_

* * *

When the Peacekeepers pushed Dick in the room, the first to step in, was Tim. Dick looked at the son of the Head-Peacekeeper, until Tim spoke.

"I told you I wasn't going to get Reaped!" Dick smirked shortly.

"I know you weren't going to, Tim." He said. The boy hadn't see it coming, but Dick did. A hero/sidekick/tribute who could choose a hero was going to get Reaped. And Dick certainly was going to be _the_ tribute of the year. The one everybody wanted to live. Tim sighed.

"I'm sorry. For all the mean things I've said before. I didn't know…" Dick made Tim stop speaking.

"I know you're sorry, Tim. Just… take care of Jason, please. I don't know how he takes this," Dick said. A Peacekeeper came in, and Tim could say one thing before he got dragged away.

"Keep flying there, Richard!" the door slammed, and Dick had some time for himself. He smiled by Tim's encouragement. _Keep flying…_ the boy just couldn't stop making references with his old life, could he?

Second to come in, was Jason. It seemed like he had been crying.

"Jason, it's going to be okay, right? I'm going back," Dick said, though he wasn't really sure of himself. Yes, he had been trained by the bad-ass Batman, but he couldn't use any of that – they would recognize the way he did it as one of their old enemy's. All of his pre-rebellion training was more than he actually taught the two boys and the Capitol could get to know it was him. They probably already knew Dick Grayson had been Reaped.

"You know what you have to do, right?" Dick asked him, and Jason nodded. Dick had made a plan Jason and Tim (and possibly his father) needed to do when he died. Fly out of the District. Go to another one, but not 1, 2, 4 or 11 – too risky. Dick had personally chosen for 6, District of transport, and there were always a few nice people who would help them. And if they could convince the Head-Peacekeeper as well, they could lie he's been sent to another District.

Jason handed Dick something. When Dick opened the small box, he could see his old mask. Dick looked at it in disbelief.

"Jason, you don't have to do this, it is…"

"…your token. Dick, you'll need it out there. Make the world see the heroes aren't out of this cruel world yet."

The two boys stood there for a few minutes, until the Peacekeeper came in again and took Jason out of the room. And Dick was now all alone.

He thought of all his friends, back in the time of the second rebellion. And all the smaller things he would never forget about them. They got killed by the Capitol, and now he got killed by the Capitol during the Games. Though the Careers had developed themselves to bigger killing machines than Dick could remember, they still didn't had any chance against him. Well, maybe a little chance because Dick didn't want to kill (never did, never will), but nothing else.

The rest of the hour, his friends didn't leave his mind. They would stay there until the end, and give him advice. Above all, he missed his best friend and his mentor: Kid Flash and Batman. Those two had become his very best imaginary advisers over the years, and they weren't going to let him down, yet. And they reacted precisely how they were, so it was hard to believe they weren't real.

The Peacekeeper came in, and Dick walked behind him in the car. It felt somewhat good to sit down in such a thing again. At the station, he could get a glimpse of how he looked like. Proud, and strong. Giving the Careers a right picture of him. _Great. Let them know I am the original Robin. _Before he could do so, he was pushed up, into the train with Tello – 3 didn't had any Victors left, because of the fact they all got killed by the Capitol. So far, only 1, 2, 4, 7 and 8 had got a Victor. Even 11 got one small, fragile girl! And 3? None. But the thought of Beetee, Wiress and all other previous Victors I've known were great as a source of inspiration.

_When we got onto the train, I was immediately pushed in a chair by Tello. She was looking at me expectantly, but I just stared at her. I didn't want to talk to someone of the Capitol, unless she started to talk to me. Ten minutes passed until I stopped glaring, because that's when my chosen mentor walked in. It's up to the Mayor, the Head-Peacekeeper and their families to choose a 'mentor' – well, that was their job until one tribute comes out alive, and has to mentor the tributes. This man is Damien Gordon, respected and boss of one of the most successful fabrics. I hadn't really met him, but we knew each other well. The fabric he owns is the one I used to work in before my Reaping. Tim offered me to give me food, but I wanted to work for it, so I did._

_I shortly nod at him, and I can see he recognized me. He sat down between Tello and me, and before either of us could protest, he played all Reapings. He said I better got to know the enemy. Knowing it was something Batman would say, I watched all Reapings carefully._

_District One Reaping. Same old escort that looked like he had been eaten by a bird. As his hand went straight in the Reaping bowl without further ado, and came out as fast as it went in, he simply said the name. Their tribute's name was Conan. Around the age of twenty, with a fairly good resemblance to two super-powered people from Thirteen I once knew. He just stood on stage, looking confused over the people of One, of which the eighteen- to twenty-five-section was glaring at him, because they wanted to be tributes. But the rule change said only one could compete, and nobody could volunteer. Those kids hated Conan by now, I thought, but I had to watch out. It's a future Career, after all, and he looks like he had been training._

_The anthem of District Two stroke up, and when the escort slowly lowered her hand in the Reaping bowl, you could see the sadness in the eyes of this year's potential Tributes; they couldn't volunteer, so they only could hope to get picked by their boring cloud-like escort. It took ages before her hand came out of the Reaping bowl. It was a girl, named Stephanie. Damiens' face turned pale as he saw his niece walking up onto the stage. After a short explanation I knew Stephanie was transferred from Three to Two, because she wanted to make a chance in the Games, and in Three weren't really places to train, since this wasn't a Career-District. And Two has currently the most Victors, so she choose that above One or Four. I never knew her, though she looked familiar, like Conan._

_We skipped Three – I really didn't want to see myself – and fastly turned over to the Reaping of Four, the fishing District. This had also a new escort, one that was only two years in the business, and reminded me of KF because of the way he spoke. Before we knew it, they Reaped a boy with a dark skin and blonde hair – one Karl. When I got a closer look at it, I saw something I identified as gills._

_I didn't really pay attention to the upcoming tributes, though they all had something special. The girl from Five had a strange green skin and red hair – I assumed it was from an accident in one of the factories. The ginger boy from Six didn't really seem strong, but more like a prankster, the way he rushed onto the stage and grabbed that microphone. The girl from Seven and Eight didn't really get my attention, despite the fact they looked like Artemis (Seven) and Zatanna (Eight)._

_From Nine a boy was Reaped, who couldn't be older than fourteen. He looked like had become fourteen just a week ago and was actually very small for his age. It looked like he was going to get killed in the Bloodbath as first. The tribute from Ten couldn't be older then fifteen, and had like Five a green skin and a tail. A monkey tail, I saw. Since that was the District of livestock, I wondered why on earth they kept apes? The twenty-one-year-old from Eleven didn't really impress me, so I let him slip my mind._

"We're here!" Tello squealed after the Reaping, and Dick didn't even stood up to watch the Capitol. He knew how it looked like, from his memories he still knew; he didn't need to be reminded of what had happened in the past.

They were going to reach the Capitol third of all tribute trains, and the time went very fast. Tomorrow the other tributes, coming from 7 to 11 would arrive. So he had time to relax, and enjoy the Capitol, even if it's a jail. Dick will always compare the Capitol as a jail, because they had locked him up, along with many other rebels. This was the place he fought for freedom against the Capitol with his friends. This was the place he was frozen in, and woke up to be constantly with those irritating Peacekeepers and a lot of Avoxes which probably hadn't deserved to be a slave of the Capitol.

But what had he to say about that, being a pawn in the Fourth Quarter Quell, the 100th infamous Hunger Games of Panem?

* * *

_Before you ask, I have my own reasons for not telling D6's name. I won't say it until the start of the actual Games - so you have to wait for chapter 5 or 6 before I'm telling you. So, until then, any guesses how he's called? __And maybe I'll have some of the others YJ-members in the Games. And if so, who and presenting which District? __Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write you see..._


	4. Ch 3: Points & Interviews

**_I'm so sorry for this late update! I had some personal problems, exams were coming up (but are done for now), school gave me too much work, etc... but now I'm back with a (sort of) longer chapter to make it up with you guys!_**

**_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it._ I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice._ Enjoy!_**

**_-Vuraangreg_**

* * *

"Come quickly, the Points are about to be showed," Regina said. Regina was his stylist, who gave him clothes in which he made a great first impression. Back then, he wore the smaller version of the costume of the Bat, without sleeves to get a look at his muscles. The tension was pretty awkward, since Stephanie from Two also choose the Bat as her 'mentoring hero'.

Everyone got to choose one mentoring hero or heroine, and it was agreed they put the tributes in the outfits of the heroes. One had Superman. Two and Three Batman. Four had Aquaman, no surprise, while Five choose the Martian Manhunter. Six had Flash, Eight had some magician Dick had forgotten the name from. Seven and Eleven had Green Arrow. Nine and Ten hadn't chosen anything, as Dick remembered their suits not matching any hero's costume. The green monkey-boy from Ten wore a purple outfit, while the one from Nine wore a red costume, white cape and a lightning bolt in the middle. Not Flash's costume, but surprisingly recognizable. As if he had seen it before…

Dick wanted to stay in his room. He knew it would be essential for during the Games, but he didn't want to look like a show-off. He was pretty sure he had the highest score, since he had years of experience back in Twelve, Thirteen and Three.

The host, one man named Jack, could be seen, sitting on his ever-green seat.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I don't have to tell you what this is, because you all probably know what I'm gonna do right now. Why don't we immediately start, eh? Well, first, for District One, obviously." Jack opened the envelop and took the slip with number '1' printed on it.

"Before I begin, just so you know, by hints you'll know what the tributes did – or tried to do but fantastically failed – and, of course, their score, or else I wouldn't be sitting here tonight. So," Jack opened the first slip, and Dick tried to focus on all words he heard, and to let out all unnecessary comments of Jack, who seemed familiar to him, other than that he almost every year was seen on television.

"… by use of his strength, coming out of his anger, the Head-Gamemaker grant him a 10. Now, now, if that isn't a score to be proud of…"

Surprise, surprise.

The photo of Conan was showed. Here, the Tribute was wearing a black T-shirt with a red "S". Dick rolled his eyes. Off course this young boy got a 10 – it was a Career, probably, and the Gamemakers always gave the Career higher points than the others. Exception was Katniss Everdeen from Twelve, but she died.

"Next, for the female tribute of Two, by the power of her hidden muscles, we grant her a 9. Well, that score is also great…" Dick could hear Damien sigh. He was glad his daughter got a high point from the Gamemakers. She had trained, they knew, and actually it wasn't a big surprise she got a 9. It's one point lower than Conan, but it was still really high.

He swore that, if he was to die in the arena, which he was sure of, he would do anything to protect Stephanie.

"… from Three," Jack continued, "For this tribute's perfect skills, they give him a score of 10." A ten? Well, it was more than he expected. He just had done some basic moves he learned from Batman, and he hacked the computer of the Capitol so it projected a picture of the Justice League. Not that big deal.

Karl, from Four, scored a 10 as well. Not that bad, wasn't it? he seemed like a Career, so he surely got a high score.

The girl from Five got merely a 5. Whatever she did, it wasn't enough to get a high score. What _did_ she do, bake cookies?

The tribute from Six, however, got a 9, 'for his speed'. That meant he was fast, but on which stand was he fast?

The girl from Seven, the Artemis-like girl, scored higher than the 'speedster'. A 10, 'because she deserved it'.

The picture of the girl from Eight was distracting, but he got what score she got: 7. She was, to believe Jack, a great magician. _A magic show isn't going to work, Zee._ Why did he call her Zee anyways?

The fourteen-year-old from Nine, who looked very weak, scored an 8 – for hidden secrets. Dick made a mental note to find out what hidden secrets Jack was talking about.

From district Ten, the boy with the monkey-tail, got the highest score out of all Tributes and from his own district – an 11. The first ever to score high, was Katniss Everdeen. Dick made another mental note to keep an eye on the green monkey-boy. Maybe, they'd be allies if the boy was able to accept him as an ally…

The twenty-one-year-old from Eleven couldn't slip his mind this time. A 9, also because he deserved it. that meant the Artemis-like girl and this tribute – Ron, he thought was his name – had done the same, but that the girl was better than him.

When it was over, Dick went to his room. he had to think. He hadn't had any interview-strategy, so he choose the one that was easiest to follow – be yourself. As himself, he would be able to score some fans. And maybe, he could show the other Tributes – and especially the Careers – he's more than just a bat-costume.

Maybe, if the others kill each other, he could really win this.

* * *

"Welcome, people, to the interviews of the fourth Quarter Quell. Here is you host for tonight, Jack Napier!" Lights went on, and the cameras turned to their famous host – maybe even more famous than Caesar Flickerman once was. He was first host for the 86th Hunger Games, and since then, the Capitol loved him. He has green hair, a literally white skin and don't even speak of his laugh. That isn't just a laugh – by surgery, he made the laugh in his face forever. His mouth is a permanent laugh, just in short. Soon the people of the Capitol nicknamed him 'the Joker'. Because he couldn't stop smiling.

"Welcome, Capitol, people of Panem welcome by the 100th Hunger Games, which means celebration time!" the people cheered and clapped for their beloved host.

"Okay, that's enough, maybe! Right, the first tribute, coming from District 1, a brute boy with a big chance in the Games – please welcome Conan Lane!" The boy, Conan, walked up onto the stage, and shook Jack's hand before he sat down. He wore an outfit which showed the hero they had chosen. Conan wore a Superman-outfit, but with some adaptions. No cape, and no maillot, just the Superman-suit in a more casual way. Dick wore the smoking-version of his old costume.

"So, Conan, tell me: how was your life back in 1? Must be very excited?" Conan didn't smile – he refused to smile if there are Capitol's people in the environment. So, he didn't really smile.

"Actually, it was pretty hard. I'm not originally from there. My home District is 3."

"Ah so, a District change. Did you leave my of your family members there? Who came with you to District 1."

"Nobody. I went there on my own."

"But somebody had to come with you? Your mother, maybe…"

"I have no family left. All killed in the second rebellion or by Peacekeepers. So either way because of the Capitol," Conan said, glaring at the Joker with cold eyes, who didn't seem to realize what the first tribute of the fourth quell just said.

"Well, if you win this, you'll have a better chance of living in 1, huh? And maybe, you can transfer back to 3 and find some family members." Conan was really angry now. Was the Joker that deaf? Dick couldn't see why, but it had hit the tribute from 1 hardly. Conan stood up, and looked angry at Jack.

"There are none. I told you, they've all been killed by the Capitol, in both ways. Don't expect me to kill anyone, because I don't want more families to get their tears shed because of the loss of another child. I won't kill. You all hear me? I won't kill! if really necessary, I will hurt badly, but still I won't kill." Joke gaped at Conan, who walked straight backstage, even before his buzzer went off. Joker was still confused.

"Big hand for Conan Lane, District One's little brute." The crowd clapped and cheered anyways. A tribute from a Career-District driven by anger and had said he wouldn't kill… this was going to get very good at some point.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, she is not only beautiful, but she'll always stick in your mind. People of Panem, I present to you the great Stephanie Gordon!" Stephanie came in – she looked beautiful, and some moments Dick stared at the female tribute. He didn't really recognize the outfit, since he thought female tributes also could choose male old heroes.

Dick shook his head when Stephanie sat down next to 'Joker' Jack. He can't fall in love with her, he can't fall for anyone of the tributes. Tomorrow, he might as well be dead. So he just couldn't. And besides, it probably wouldn't work out if this year the tributes could escape, like the last Quarter Quell. She was a Career from 2, and he was a poor boy from 3. And he wasn't interested… was he?

"So, Stephanie, what a beautiful dress do you wear tonight!" Joker began, and Stephanie looked smiling at it.

"I know, my stylist is really doing his best for it. You see, it wasn't easy to make a dress out of a hero's costume," she said, and the cameras switched to Stephanie's stylist, with the name Danio, if Dick could remember it correctly.

"I say, something like that isn't made in one day. Say, which hero did you choose? With Conan it was Superman from 13, but which one did you choose?" Jack asked, smiling at her. What am I saying, he's always smiling!

"I choose Batman, from 12," Stephanie said without hesitating. Dick looked at her with wide eyes. Did she just said Batman, or was it just him? When he got a closer look to her outfit, he could recognize the Bat-symbol on her chest, and a replica of his utility belt, if not the original one, and she also wore something that could be a cape. But all transformed in a beautiful black dress. Which meant her nickname should be 'Batwoman' or 'Batgirl'. And there wasn't even a Batgirl in the rebellion!

Though, he confirmed once more she looked familiar, just like Conan and all the others.

"Batman? Isn't he a bit dark for someone like you?" Joker asked, but Stephanie shook her head. "No, he isn't. I thought, if I wanted to represent a hero here, I needed to choose someone without superpowers, someone intimidating, someone to awaken the District and scares people with one simple look. The first name I came up with, was Batman," she finished her story. All she said, was true. Batman didn't have any powers, was intimidating, and could scare the crap out of people by only using the Bat-glare.

Maybe, if she wasn't going to be a Career, they could work together as a Dynamic Duo. Because of those thoughts, Dick had missed a part of her interview.

"Well, that's right, miss Gordon. One more question: how much do you like the Capitol?"

"It's amazing, really!" That was all Stephanie could say before her buzzer went off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Stephanie Gordon!" the crowd clapped and cheered, and then it really started to sink in. It was Dick's time to go on that stage, and try to get sponsors. If it weren't for the Games, he could just sit there, glaring at Jack until the host said he could go, but Tello, Regina and Damien had other plans. He must be himself, but couldn't be just Dick Grayson (long time since he called himself that) or Richard Wayne. He had to be the Robin already.

Somehow, he wasn't prepared for the feeling that occurred him now. He was nervous to go in the spotlights, with the suit Regina pulled him in, which referred too much to Batman if you had to believe Dick.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, now we get to see and hear a young boy, all the way from District 3, electronics, like you know. People of Panem, get a big hand for the third Tribute, Richard Wayne!" hesitating, Dick walked up on the stage, the people clapping for him. He's never liked all the attention, and rather stayed out of people's sight, in the shadows spying on them, but now it was his time to shine, his time to convince people who he really was.

And he hated it.

"Well, Richard, I see that you like Ms. Gordon chose for the Batman. Is there any particular reason?" Jack asked. Dick pretended like he thought about that, while he was actually scanning the people. Everyone was wearing clothes in the strange and ever-changing Capitol-stile. Then, he saw one man, around the forty years, dressed up like the Bat. Dick swallowed and kept looking at the man, pretending like it was the Bat he had a conversation with. The real Bat should see him now…

"There is no particular reason. He seems cool to me," Dick answered. The interview went smoothly from that point. Jack asked the same questions as every year with District Three, and he began to feel comfortable with him, though he worked for Luthor. He kept up his smile, though.

"So, Richard, do you want to say one more thing to the people of Panem?" Jack asked him, hinting his time was almost over. Dick wanted to knock that guy, down but he didn't. Instead, he said something he never thought he would say it ever again.

"Actually, I will. The reason why I choose Batman, is actually very simple. I consider him as my mentor, a man I could count on my whole life. But that's not the whole reason. I could've chosen Superman, with his numerous powers, but is nothing if there is Kryptonite in the environment. I could've chosen the Martian Manhunter, with his alien ways of trying to do what's good, but he's nothing if there's a lot of fire surrounding him. I could've chosen the Flash, with his super-speed of which he could probably run around the world if he wanted to, but is nothing if he doesn't eat much in time. I could've chosen Green Arrow, with his phenomenal archer skills, but when he shot all his arrows, he's nothing. I've chosen the Batman, with his several attributes from his utility belt and hacking skills, but he is nothing without his new-found family. All my family has been taken away by me, even my mentor in Three when I was placed under him. The Batman made me think of him, and… if Batman was sitting in the public, he would be proud of me. In everyone's heart, there is a place reserved for the big Bat, even if you didn't know that. And I'm about to take his place, and take that place in your hearts." Dick ignored the buzzer when he was halfway his speech, and didn't mention Tim and Jason for a reason. He couldn't lose them. Not after losing the Bat, and after all training they've got. To Dick's surprise Jack didn't interrupt him, but kept listening.

"Very inspiring. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you: District Three's personal Robin, Richard Wayne!" The crowd clapped and cheered louder for him than for Conan and Stephanie – he had pushed those two completely in the shadows, just by his speech. He should get sponsors for sure, but remembered he was being told that they couldn't sponsor him this year – like the Quell said – and still had many people behind him now. With words, and not with the Bat-glare, like he was planning to use.

He already knew with one look at Conan the Careers would take revenge tomorrow.

* * *

_They didn't seem a threat to me. Except for some of them. The green boy from 10 with the monkey-tail had spoiled too much that was good for him about his 'special powers', like he said he had to have a big advantage I was on the look-out for. Karl said everyone had the same chances, though it was a Quarter Quell, and mentioned this year's Careers had a very big advantage, which also was their biggest disadvantage. I snored when I heard that. The Careers had a disadvantage? Better be something I could discover fastly._

_Well, I had that big disadvantage, not the Careers. I don't like to kill, the thing the whole Games are based off. Those kids have been training their whole lives for this. And me? I was trained by the Batman to do what's right, not to kill. I can't, not even when they used mind-control, I probably even can't kill the President despite my oath. And when Conan says he won't kill, I don't believe it. It's a Career, has been training for it, and therefor dangerous enough for me to stay out of his way as long as possible._

_I looked at all of them, memorizing all information I could need. I skipped all tributes from Five to Nine, because they didn't seem that special to me. Not since I watched their Reapings, and didn't watch despite their points were almost-average. I still listened to that, and I made a conclusion._

_Every single one of this year's tributes aren't that different – we are a lot alike, actually. We may be different in age, gender, district, appearance and personality, but we have some things in common which can't be overlooked, not even by the Capitol and its stupid citizens, not by the Gamemakers and especially not by smart President Luthor. If only the other Tributes were smart enough to know what I've discovered. We all have lost at least one family member in the past. We all are transformed from one district to another. We all have normal names, according to the tributes' names from the 76th to the 99th Games._

_And we all hate to kill other people._

* * *

**_I think I already gave away hints for some of the Tributes, so if you think you know one of the Tributes, except for Dick. Still having my reasons to keep D6's Tribute's name a secret, but I hope it's clear who it is. If not, just wait for next chapter... And yes, the most important Tributes are from One, Three and Six._**

**_Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write you see..._**


	5. Prologue part II

**_Practically, this is the Prologue of part 2, the Games. I've had a lot of spare time lately, and was able to write this and a bit of the next chapter. Hope you like it as much as other chapters!_**

_lindz4567:_ Why, thank you!

_BirdSpell:_ Well, this is what happens next! and thanks!

**_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it._ I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice._ Enjoy!_**

**_-Vuraangreg_**

* * *

**_What happened in part 1, Pre-Games:_**

The rebellion has failed. The rebels have failed. And so did we, heroes from each of the twelve remaining districts. We failed. We failed everyone: the rebels, the districts, even the Capitol. Everyone. The rebellion is over now, but I can still remember the day as if it happened yesterday…

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

"People of Panem, two months earlier, the rule-change of the Fourth Quarter Quell was announced. I'll be giving you some more information about this. For once, you can choose your hero. And you'll be presenting him/her in the arena, and you'll be threatened like heroes. And remember: everyone will be your enemy."

Her hand disappeared between the names of a thousand citizens of District Three. It was stuck in there for seconds, what seemed like ages, before she grabbed one slip. She opened it and said the name. The name I expected to be in this year, or else to be in it next year.

"Richard Wayne."

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

"Good morning, District One, and happy Hunger Games!" the Escort said to the people of District One. His hand went in the Reaping bowl, and came out slowly, as if it were a bomb. He opened the slip and spoke with a loud voice, so practically everyone of One could hear it as if they were there themselves.

"Conan Lane!" his voice said, and in the twenty-year-old section, people began to look at this boy, who looked rather confused.

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

"This year's tribute from District Six is…" the name had been called, and people looked all the way at the eighteen-year-old man standing there, smiling. People rolled their eyes at him, as he started to smile when he had heard his name. They say he's not serious enough for the Games, they say he can't take it.

He could take things serious, but didn't show that. He could still laugh when something bad happened in Six, referring that 'he had gone through something more bad than that small accident'.

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

"… by use of his strength, coming out of his anger, the Head-Gamemaker grant him a 10. Now, now, if that isn't a score to be proud of…" The photo of Conan was showed. Here, the Tribute was wearing a black T-shirt with a red "S".

"… from Three," Jack continued, "For this tribute's perfect skills, they give him a score of 10." The tribute from Six, got a 9, 'for his speed'. That meant he was fast, but on which stand was he fast?

The girl from Seven, the Artemis-like girl, scored higher than the 'speedster'. A 10, 'because she deserved it'.

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

"I have no family left. All killed in the second rebellion or by Peacekeepers. So either way because of the Capitol," Conan said, glaring at the Joker with cold eyes.

"Well, if you win this, you'll have a better chance of living in One, huh? And maybe, you can transfer back to Three and find some family members." Conan was really angry now.

"There are none. I told you, they've all been killed by the Capitol, in both ways. Don't expect me to kill anyone, because I don't want more families to get their tears shed because of the loss of another child. I won't kill. You all hear me? I won't kill!"

**YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ**

Every single one of this year's tributes aren't that different – we are a lot alike, actually. We all have lost at least one family member in the past. We all are transformed from one district to another. We all have normal names, according to the tribute's names from the 76th to the 99th Games. And we all hate to kill other people.

* * *

**_Part 2: the Games - synopsis_**

_The Games are about to begin, and he tries to find a way to either win without killing or break out like one girl named Katniss Everdeen once did. Could he, with his newfound allies (the redhead from Six, an insane archer from Seven and a butler) be able to hack into the Capitol and escape, or should he face once again the deaths of people he learned to trust? Or will he fall by Conan, who carries a secret he would never expose?_

* * *

As I try to sleep, I find myself lying on my back, looking at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts and memories of better times crossed my minds. I close my eyes again, for the tenth time, only to see the ceiling again when I open them. I still was hoping this is one of my nightmares, to see if my friends would come in every second to see them – once again – ripped away from them by both Snow and Coin. Yet, it doesn't. so I keep looking up to the ceiling, waiting for my eyelids to get heavy. Afraid what would happen tomorrow.

Yes, I won't deny it: I am afraid. But not for what you think it is. I'm not scared to die, I am better prepared than ever for that, but it has something to do with it. I am afraid that I would kill.

My whole life, when I watched the Games with Bruce in order to figure out some strategies and learn some more fighting/survival skills, I've seen innocent children, from who I never thought would do something bad, turning into little monsters, destroying everything in their way, only to get blasted away by the ever-winning-Careers or the Gamemakers – they don't want a crazy Tribute to become their Victor, I realized. Many kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen went insane, killing others. The side of it made me sick, but I kept on watching. It somewhat hardened me and my feelings, to know I might get picked.

I made a vow not to kill, or even harm, the civilians with its citizens, in order to keep them safe. I swore it with my life. I only don't know if I could keep that promise in my minutes of insanity, if they are ever to come. I need to keep myself sane, staying away from the others as long as possible without becoming crazy.

I don't know if I can ever be called sane again once I've won… if I win.

* * *

**_Yep, next chapter I'll begin the Games officially! Then you will finally get to hear the name from the other Tributes, other than Conan (1), Stephanie (2), Dick (3), Karl (4) and Ron (11). If you think to know any of the other Tributes, just tell me - if it's ight, you'll get a virtual cookie!_**

**_Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write you see..._**


	6. Ch 4: Welcome to Gotham City

**_Alright, I know it's been a long, long time, but I had a massive writer's block, but I've managed to write this chapter. Practically the kick-off of these Games. And Dick will become part of an Aaliance, and someone we all know and love will show up..._**

_l__indz4567:_ Why, thank you!

**_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it._ I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice._ Enjoy!_**

**_-Vuraangreg_**

* * *

_I woke up and thought of yesterday. Of those tributes who didn't seem to care to compete in the Games. In a rush my morning was over, and I was brought to the Launch Room quickly. Knowing I was the only tribute to ever use this room, I looked around (there was nothing more to do) until Regina walked in with my costume. Everyone should be wearing another costume, representing the heroes they choose. _

_The costume Regina made wasn't the black suit I expected. It was a red and green design, marked with an R at the chest. My own costume from a long time ago. I thought I'd never see it again, but it was right in Regina's hands._

_I stared at it a few seconds, before looking up at my stylist. "Regina, you have the wrong one; I choose the Bat…"_

_"I know that, but you seem a bit young for such a dark hero. So your prep team and I decided to let you wear a replica of the costume that once was Robin's; you know him, I think, he was Batman's sidekick – one of the bravest of them all, in my opinion." I knew precisely who Robin was – I was him myself. But I didn't say anything. I was Richard Wayne now, just a fan of the Bat, not Dick Grayson, adoptive son of Head-Peacekeeper Bruce Wayne._

_It felt strange to wear it again. The (empty) belt, the cape, the mask… everything. I hadn't wore it in twenty-six years, but it still fitted. I hadn't grow that much, and my skills were still as good as always. Not that good, but I kept training. I had a big advantage being the only survivor of the rebels. It just wasn't fair._

_"_10 seconds to countdown,_" a voice said, and I stepped into the tube. When I turned to Regina, she smiled._

_"Ready to fly like a robin?" she said winking. But it wasn't her voice I heard. It was Tim's. He said that to me the morning of the Reaping. And I wouldn't forget those words that easy._

_So I nodded, and said two small words. "I'm ready." And at that moment the tube transported me up, to the Cornucopia._

_The other tributes seemed pretty serious. Conan was wearing a Superman suit, and the fourteen-year-old boy from Ten just wore a sort of purple uniform, and was still green. The green ginger from Five wore something you could call casual, but not Capitol-casual. More like Old America-casual. I also recognized some replicas of Artemis, Batgirl, Aqualad, Zatana and Red Arrow. There was only one tribute I couldn't find. The man from Nine. I could see everyone else, but that twenty-five year old. Instead, the boy from the interview and the Reaping was standing in a casual (also, not Capitol-casual) outfit onto its platform._

_I studied the arena, before I didn't have that chance anymore. It looked like one of those old cities of Old America, with its skyscrapers and traffic jams. There were several ways, but there weren't many bents. There was also a highway, with a great sign above it. _Welcome to Gotham City,_ was written on it. This year's arena was an arena of an ancient city, which probably was situated on the place this year's tributes were standing now. We were at the parking in front of a great building, saying _'Wayne Enterprises'_, the Cornucopia one hundred yards away from it._

**_Thirteen._**

**_Twelve._**

**_Eleven._**

**_Ten._**

**_Nine._**

Dick closed his eyes, but opened them again. This was it. Only ten seconds left, and the Capitol would force him to kill. But he just couldn't because of the vow. Heroes don't kill people – they save them. In a brief moment, he saw the boy from Six staring to him. And later to the Artemis-replica from Seven, and then quickly looked back to him. Like he was trying to say something. They hadn't got time to form an alliance, because the Gamemakers tried to avoid any contact between the tributes this year. They still trained in the Training Center, but they were forced to go to every station, and to one where nobody was practicing. Like they did every year since the Second Rebellion. To think, this year's Tributes hardly have trained. No wonder the ginger from Five only got as much as her District number…

A gong was heard, and people were either running to the Cornucopia, of running away. But after the first steps to the big golden horn, Dick stopped. Did the unknown boy just change into the man from Nine? Conan was flying, and Five and Eight and Nine as well. The green boy from Ten was flying as well, but as a green bird – Dick saw him change. Were the Gamemakers trying to confuse him? Because if they were, it worked pretty well.

Dick ran further to the Cornucopia, and saw how Ron got bow and arrow, like the Artemis-girl from Seven, and they were shooting on everyone like they've worked with bows all of their lives. Which was confusing because there weren't any Training Centers in Seven or Eleven. Conan helped Karl when he was fighting with Nine about a backpack, while Stephanie was wrestling with the girl from Eight. Dick reached the Cornucopia, and found the thing he need – the birdarang, his grappling hook and everything else that once was a part of his utility belt. As he felt how his belt was weighing almost as much as it did, he turned around to run away, but he ran straight into the three Careers – Conan, Stephanie and Karl. Dick smiled at them.

"Can I join your alliance?" he asked with a goofy smile. Conan shook his head.

"This is going to be too easy…" he said, lifting his fist to smash and break all of Dick's bones, but the Robin was prepared. He ducked away, now standing next to Karl, who tried to take him down as well. With Dick's ninja-like-reflexes, Karl ended up hitting Conan. Dick appeared next to Stephanie, and smirked.

"I hope you can do better than those two. They're not the best tools in shed, are they?" Dick asked Stephanie, who didn't even try to kill Robin, as Dick was asked not to hurt her. She knew this, and decided not to go after the Tribute from Three either. When Conan was trying to knock Dick down at once, someone shouted "No, don't you touch him!". Dick was lifted up by someone, and he was suddenly gone, caught by a blur of red and yellow.

"Where is he?" Karl shouted, looking around. Someone took him away. The ginger 'prankster' from Six. Conan rubbed his side. "What was that for?" He asked the Career from Four. Karl turned to Conan. "I was trying to take down that scum from Three, but I accidentally hit you. My apologies."

"You better are. We need to get down those imitators as soon as possible. And you, girl, if you ever let go on that sneaky boy from Three again, I might reconsider not killing. Understood?" Conan said intimidating, as Karl and Stephanie nodded. The Capitol was playing a nasty game with them, and they were going to take the other tribute 'sidekick/heroes' down at once.

* * *

When Dick could free himself from the boy from Six, he fell onto the ground, being hit in his arm, and rolled a bit further. He was really impressed by this Tribute. That guy could almost run as fast as Flash could. No wonder that guy had chosen that hero. The Capitol was really playing a game with him! Confusing Richard worked very well until now. Dick felt how a hand took his wrist and after seeing a glimpse of the Tribute from Six, he was being dragged away again when they finally stopped after somewhat three minutes. Meanwhile they had heard two cannons. The pictures of the tributes from Eight and Nine (the kids who resembled much to Zatana and the Captain Marvel) were shown before the young man let go on the Robin. The bloodbath was done, and people could say this was the lamest Bloodbath ever with the lowest amount of kills, with only two kills.

The Capitol would not be happy with this and probably already planned something to kill them.

Dick was released, and the first thing he saw, was that they were standing in front of a big manor. Dick looked at it, and half-expected the tribute to kill him. But when he looked at the Flash-like young man, he just put out his hand to the boy from Three and said: "Allies?"

Dick looked surprised. "Do you want _me_ as an ally, and not the others?" With such speed, you should think he would team-up with the Careers, if they ever wanted the fast boy from Six, to go to several parts of the arena at once. The young man nodded and helped Dick up.

"I'm Richard Wayne. Hey, is everything okay?" Dick asked the boy. Robin could see something bothered the speedster. The eyes weren't covered by the mask he wore, and Dick could see the worry in the Tribute's green eyes.

"Yeah, one of my friends… his name was Wayne." "I'm sorry," Dick said, and asked for his name and backstory. He heard the whole story whilst his brain was taking notes.

The boy in front of him was called Bart Allen. He was originally from Ten, with abusive parents and not that great schoolmates, but he and his uncle escaped the district and were hoping to reach the Capitol. When they almost reached District Seven, his uncle got a tracker jackers nest onto him and before Bart could run away, he saw how his uncle was stung by all the tracker jackers, and was dead before Bart could get some help. In Seven, where he also met this year's female tribute, he took the train to Six, where he lived with his younger cousin from who he didn't mention the name.

Somehow, Dick knew that was not exactly what happened to the speedster.

At some point, Bart stood up. "I'm going to get somebody else, who can be everywhere in this arena – if I don't return in half an hour, and you hear a cannon, you can be sure I'm dead." With a flash, Bart was gone. But after three seconds he was back. "Don't you dare to go away from this place. I might kill you if you're gone," he threatened with a smile before leaving Dick alone. He liked it – now he could figure out how to escape.

A young boy, whose parents got killed by the Capitol because of running away from Twelve, and whose newest parent/hero and friends were taken away by both Snow and Coin, eager to make sure the Games will stop, wants to escape out of the Games. The Gamemakers sure paid attention to that, and it was most likely they were going to make it a hell for him. But for now, they kept quite calm. He actually expected them to blow him up already.

A curious Dick went into the manor, and he was surprised to hear footsteps coming into this direction. He disappeared, glad he could still do that, and saw an older man coming in. It was like he was a rich man, but for Dick, the man looked more like a butler. The man passed by like he hadn't seen Robin, who didn't know if this butler-character was a mutt or not. So he followed the butler until he was in the living room.

The butler turned and saw a boy around seventeen in a weird costume, trying to follow him around. The man looked intimidating at the boy, which made the boy stare back at him. And Dick won this competition, of course, being taught that stare by the Bat.

"Who are you? And why are you dressed like that?" The butler asked. Robin looked down at his costume – no, uniform – as her replied to the butler.

"I'm D- Richard Wayne, also known as Robin for now. And who are you?"

"I am Alfred. What are you doing here?"

"I need some place to hide for a bunch of kids between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five. I messed up some things and need a hide-out. Can I stay here for a while?" Robin asked, completely not mentioning the Games. Probably, he was one of the few Capitol-citizens who were suspected to join in with the enemy, and being sent here. Alfred nodded and his face grew pale. Dick wondered if everything was alright with him.

"Are you a mutt or not?" Robin just blurted it out. It was a stupid question, but Alfred said he wasn't – 'or else I would've already attacked you', he told the tribute. Very logical.

"Which Games?" Alfred asked suddenly.

"The 100th Hunger Games… why? It's just the fourth Quarter Quell, and it isn't really that special. Just half of the children, but between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five. With one of them as speedster, and some of them can fly, and have superpowers, but I don't know any more yet," Alfred sat down next to Richard. As Dick made notes, as always, the butler started his story.

"Boy, I don't know what the Capitol told you, but this is the only remaining city of Old America. During the Dark Days, the Capitol and Districts tried to avoid this place as much as they could, being the oldest they got in culture. The Capitol kept us in existence, and told us to watch out for the 100th Games. We didn't really pay attention to them, it seemed too good to be real. But it wasn't. I never met anyone from the Districts but you, and that means Gotham City is the arena of the 100th Hunger Games…"

"…and all of its citizens could die because of the Gamemakers or the Careers," Dick finished. He had to find the others by tracking them down in a big crowd, full of real people who needed real help and would be killed for real, by tributes thinking they're mutts, until one tribute remains. He sighed. This was going to be harder for him than he thought. At some moments, he should've liked it if they just had killed him back in the Second Rebellion. Then things would be much easier now.

The door got slammed, and Alfred and Robin stood up. Alfred walked up, to the door, while Robin waited in the shadows. Before Alfred could take two steps out of the room, he got attacked. While the butler ran in the room again, two figures came in as well. Robin recognized one as Bart, and the other was the female archer from Seven.

"KF! What do you think you're doing? Stop it!" Robin shouted as he held Bart's wrist, unconsciously using the nickname he gave Kid Flash a long time ago. The Artemis-like girl just aimed the arrow at Alfred and Dick periodically. Bart smiled at Robin, but then looked confused at Alfred.

"Richard, there you are! Isn't he a…"

"No, Bart. That's Alfred, the butler here. So if you would stop attacking him, you can hear what we just discovered. And this girl is…" Dick asked. Bart turned around, and when he saw 'Artemis', he looked back.

"That girl is the third in our alliance. Beside the Careers, we are the best Tributes in this Arena!" He had a goofy smile while saying this. 'Artemis' just watched Bart, looking very suspicious at him.

"You even hasn't seen us train, so why do you think that?" The girl asked. Dick decided to study her. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and wore Artemis' old costume. He thought Artemis and this girl could be family, because she looked like Artemis as well. Maybe a long lost sister, or a niece. Something like that.

Or, maybe, it really was Artemis.

"I did, you just didn't see me. Together, we'd be a great alliance!" Bart said enthusiast. Dick and the girl shared a gaze, and the girl aimed her arrow now at Bart. He put out his hands in defense

"Calm down, Arty, I'm at your side," he said, quickly running over to the girl to grab all of her arrows. Before the three could blink, KF was already at his place again. He teased her, throwing the arrows behind him, still with the smile.

"First, don't call me Arty. I'm Diana. Second: I think I should go." Diana turned to the door.

"Wait, why? Here is it a lot better than in some high building!" Bart tried, blocking Diana's way out. But, as strong as Diana was, she pushed him out of the way, into Alfred's arms.

"It's called a skyscraper, and you took me away from Ron."

"Who?"

"My ally."

"Never heard of him."

"Of course not, because you never pay attention, Baywatch. He's Eleven's tribute this year, remember?" Diana said, as she pushed Bart out of the way and almost left the mansion. He just stared at her, and murmured something about her crushing on one other than him. Dick thought about something. Diana had called Bart, dressed in a Kid Flash-costume, Baywatch – back in Thirteen, before the rebellion, Artemis used to call Wally like that…

"Then at least hear what we discovered," Dick said, shaking the thoughts of his friends off of him. If he kept calling the two Artemis and Wally, it would even be harder if they died. It would be like the Second Rebellion all over again. Diana turned to District Three's Tribute, and Dick could see she was interested.

"What have you discovered?" She asked. Richard turned to Alfred.

"Alfred, you told me, so you have to tell them as well," Dick said, and Alfred looked around. He knew there should be cameras all over the mansion, except for one place…

"Follow me," he said, surprisingly scared, and the three teens followed the butler. They made their way to a room similar to the previous one, but with a great pendulum standing there. Alfred pressed a button, and somehow Dick knew what would happen. The pendulum turned, and a secret way was cleared. The first to rush in, was Bart. He was followed by Diana, Alfred and the last to enter, was Dick, being the one who didn't trust the thing that people would call an elevator. He got in, though.

Little did they know where they were going to…

* * *

**_Phew, that went well... see? I let Alfred live! I couldn't bear killing him, so I decided he still lives... for now... Anyhow, how did you like this chapter? What do you think of Diana and Bart?_**

**_Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write..._**


	7. Ch 5: the archer, the mutt and the baby

**_So, next chapter... Chapter title is self-explanation, although I doubt you would understand_****_... review time!_**

_l__in__dz4567:_ Thanks, and who says they're mine, and he's just too nice to kill, and I'm not gonna tell you, 'cause that's part of the fun of reading a story!

_LucyWithoutDiamonds:_ Yes! It was that, or Mount Justice, but I ultimately choose Gotham.

**_I'm sorry if they're a bit OOC, but I'll do my best for it._ I do not own the Hunger Games or Young Justice._ Enjoy!_**

**_-Vuraangreg_**

* * *

Luthor looked over to the Gamemakers, a smile on his face as he kept replaying how the tributes from Eight and Nine died. The only two bloodbaths from this year, and everyone would call it unnatural. Luthor, however, couldn't get enough by just watching these two tributes die at the Career's hands. He replayed every moment, and his smile grew bigger as his saw the fear Conan had in his eyes as he saw he killed someone for the two-hundredth time. At some time, he had feared Bart had recognized Dick, but he didn't. He still thought the boy wonder was death. Still thought they were _all_ dead. Good. All was going according to plan.

Luthor glanced a look at the gigantic holographic map of the Arena. He had informed his Gamemakers about the last city of Old America, and had ordered them to make that city the Arena. The favorite city of one of his most worthy enemies, Batman. Had even helped the citizens in some big projects… before he died, naturally. Now he only had to hope that old man Wayne was working with had already passed.

In front of him hung a big screen, divided in twelve. The first eleven showed the Tributes and their current hideouts, the last one showed Capitol streets – they couldn't risk letting another rebellion rise up when everyone is occupied by the Games. The Careers, Districts One, Two and Four, were momently camping close to the Cornucopia at Wayne Enterprises, being given weird looks from citizens. The tributes from Ten and Five were seeking shelter in the big city, and the tribute from Eleven was currently looking around for his stolen ally with a woman carrying a baby. And the second alliance, with the tributes from Three, Six and Seven were currently at Wayne Manor.

Suddenly, out of the nine remaining trackers on the big screen in front of him, three vanished. The second alliance. The screens that showed their whereabouts were now filled with the pictures last taken. Luthor looked at the three known kids, hating them for ever trying to get him down.

"President Luthor!" one of the Gamemakers shouted.

"I know – Robin, Kid Flash and Artemis are gone." he said calmly.

"What do you want us to do?" asked the Gamemaker. Luthor thought about it. Where they couldn't see Panem, they had no power. And with no power, these three could be preparing to break out, like during the rebellion. They needed to get them out of there – whatever there was. And he knew just the thing.

"Place a bomb in the manor. Set the clock on 20 minutes. Let's see if they're as smart as I remember." Luthor said, and the Gamemaker obeyed. Why he could do that? He was president, but also Head Gamemaker.

"Sir, tribute 11 is coming close to the edge," one of his other Gamemakers said. He looked at Speedy's situation. He was indeed walking closer to the edge with that woman, but he was also close to Wayne Manor. And Artemis was once the archer's ally until Kid Flash took her away…

"Make him run to Wayne Manor. Don't care how you handle it, but make it include that woman he's walking with." he commanded, and the Gamemakers did as he wished. Luthor knew Speedy would soon meet up with the second Alliance, as he started to call them. He could only hope they would kill each other.

Now he thought about it, bringing _him_ in had been a bad idea. He meant Robin. If the boy looked close enough, he would see the resemblance, through the lies he would see the truth. So, the boy had to be eliminated in time – that, or the others would have to die soon. It would be great if the kid won, however. He would have to see his friends die all over again. Whoever was to be winner, he or she should be broken in the end, after the realization.

* * *

Consider him lucky.

Ron had walked on for hours on end, without resting, just to get as far away from the Careers as possible. He didn't have many food, the whole way there was no single drop of water to be found, and everywhere he walked, mutts stared at him. Well, he hoped it were friendly mutts, since it wouldn't be people – no other people were in the Arena except for the nine tributes left. And, when he finally convinced Diana to form an alliance with him, some guy in a red and yellow costume came flashing by and just took her.

Again, consider him lucky.

When walking through the streets of something he recognized as a city from Old America, he began to think. About everything that happened in his life. He had wonderful friends, great mentors, and other people who took him in, despite of what he was and what for things he had done for his team. They told him that was all in the past, though. That it didn't matter anymore, because the other him would be dead by then, being in the claws of the Capitol.

Then, he lost them. All killed off, by the people who created him. After nobody was left, they asked him to join them again. He refused, naturally, although something inside him screamed to do as they commanded. He was in control now, not them – how hard the Capitol would try, he would stay independent. He escaped them, fled from them and hoped he would never return to them. He started up a new life in District Eleven, where he taught young kids how to use bow and arrow, and though his students weren't as good as him, they did well. That way, a girl from his class made it out because she could use it. He had created a new identity for himself, taking the name Ron Hover, and eventually built up a quite normal life.

However, he missed the first part of his life. The adventure, the pressure, the thrill it gave to do something good… he'd miss it so much on days, he would have sworn he almost pushed a knife through his heart, or was almost hanging himself, or found himself in the middle of a lake in the outskirts of Eleven. And yet, every time he found himself not being able to end it now. He was the last. The very last that was left of his kind. He would smirk every time he thought that, because he would never guess he would be the one surviving such a vivid nightmare. He needed to stay alive as long as possible. For everyone that meant something in his life.

Another problem was that he never aged. The Capitol had created the perfect teenage weapon, that was supposed to remain young forever, to also use it again within a million years. He tried so hard to grow a beard, to grow his hair, to look older, but nothing really worked for him. He should stay a teenager forever. Nobody would ever consider thinking that redheaded archer could be twenty-seven – the time he was created.

He saw it come, though. Entering the Games. After that announcement, it couldn't be that he would be excluded because he was Capitol-made. He just had to enter for disobeying them, and at the moment, he wouldn't dare to rest until he had an ally he could rely on. That was supposed to be Diana. She was not only good with bow and arrow, but the small alliance should have allowed him to get some rest every once in a while, so Diana could wake him up if something disastrous was about to happen. If he would lay down now, the next moment he would wake up, surrounded by the human-looking mutts. He just _knew_ this, being the one to flee from the Capitol.

"Can I help you, young man?" Ron took out one of his arrows and, ready to fire, turned around to the voice. It was a woman, not older than thirty, holding a baby in her arms. When he turned, he could make out fear in her eyes. Deciding she was not dangerous at the moment, he lowered the bow.

"No, thanks." he wanted to walk away, but the woman called out again.

"You look lost. Do you actually live here?" she asked. He hesitated – should he tell her or not?

"No, I'm just a tourist, but got separated from my friends. Eight teens, three girls and five boys. Dressed up in ridiculous costumes like myself, for if one of us ever got lost. Have you seen them?" he could always try. She could bring him to some lonely tributes, the Careers, or even better, the boy that stole his ally. She shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen them. But I can help you find them. Where was the last place you've seen them?" He looked up at the highest skyscraper, where the Cornucopia should be. Wayne Enterprises. Probably so-called the best running company of this arena. The woman noticed he looked at it.

"Do you have to go to Wayne Enterprises?"

"No, my friends and I agreed to see each other at a big manor if one of us got lost," Ron easily lied. The Gamemakers meant the tributes to get lost, and when they were all alone, the 'humans' could turn on them. Not even considering them as a threat. Ron knew better – he was Capitol-made, after all. Besides, he didn't even know if there even was a manor in this city. The woman smiled at him.

"Well, I have to go to Wayne Manor, so I can lead you there." he thought about it. _So there really is a manor here._ If they passed a dead end, she could attack him. If not, she still could attack him. It was a situation everyone would say 'no' to. Well, everyone with brains would. When he thought what his friends would do, he decided to do the same. _Proven innocent until she does something bad._ This one sentence brought back an old memory he thought he had forgotten.

_A younger (but still the same looking) Ron Hover stood next to a winner from One, completely in a green outfit, carrying bow and arrows with him. His old mentor. In front of them stood a woman, one the boy only had seen once in his life, when trying to steal. She wasn't from this district, he knew. She didn't knew the rules there._

"_Why don't we just punish her?" an anxious Ron said._

"_Why should we if she hasn't done anything wrong?" the man said. Ron looked up at him._

"_But she… she stole some food!" Ron exclaimed. The man put a hand on the shoulder of his male protégé. He looked at the boy. He had only seen the Capitol and this District, so he couldn't know what the rules were in the other Districts. Most of the time, it was eat or be eaten, and in very few there was enough to have some leftovers. In some there was not enough to have leftovers, or even a full stomach. But here, there never were leftovers – just enough to come around in the day._

"_Roy," the man began, "that may be a crime here, but not where I come from, or in the other Districts. She hasn't done anything bad, except when being hungry is a crime. Is it?" Ron shook his head, and the man smiled._

"_It's not. See? Until she does something bad, she is proven innocent."_

"_Proven innocent until she does something bad…" he repeated the words as the man unchained the woman. _

"Are you alright?" the voice of the woman took him out of his thoughts. _Proven innocent until she does something bad. _She resembled to the woman from his memory so much.

"I'm fine, yeah. Sounds good that you lead," he just replied, following her in silence, a smile breaking through on his face. They walked for a good amount of time, until the baby started to cry. This startled Ron a bit. He's never heard a baby cry, and wondered if something was wrong with him.

"Is he alright?" Ron asked, coming closer to the woman. She nodded.

"Why yes, he is. He almost never cries." Ron looked at the woman and how she hushed the baby. He looked at the baby, and suddenly thought it's a tough boy. He could see it. That boy could be a natural leader or fighter. Ron thought that whatever the baby had to go through in the future, he would pull through it.

"Who is the father?" Ron blurted out. Her face darkened the moment he spoke the word 'father'.

"He left me when I was pregnant." she simply said. She looked like she didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm sorry for you," Ron said pitiful, "What is his name? The baby, I mean," he added, to avoid confusing. She began to smile again.

"His name's Corey," she said.

"Corey… That's a nice name," he said, and they walked on without saying a word. From behind them, cars rushed away from them, and people ran past them, not looking behind. The woman and Ron didn't knew why, but they made haste anyway. Ron wanted to get rid of her, not in the killing/hurting way, so she could go on with her life, and the farther they walked, the more Ron was convinced she wasn't a mutt. I mean, why would the Capitol create a mutt with a whole backstory, and a _baby_? He glanced a look at them, and decided they could need some protection during the Games. The woman probably couldn't take it if someone would take her money, or baby, or freedom.

Suddenly, he heard something growl behind him. He spun, slowly, not making any sudden moves, until he stood face to face with a wolf. Now, he got why these people ran away. There stood a giant wolf mutt in front of him. Capitol-made, like himself. Equal chances. The woman turned alongside him, and started to scream. Corey began to cry again, as if the baby felt something bad would happen. Ron dropped the bag he'd gotten from the Cornucopia, so he wouldn't be hindered by it.

"A wolf!" the woman cried out.

"Yep and it's here for me and my friends," he said, calmer than he'd expected. The Capitol sent mutts in the arena, just like they always did. Though, the wolf didn't seem to growl directly at him. More like the woman and baby Corey.

"WHAT?" she screamed after Ron had said this. He and the woman walked back slowly, not letting their eyes of the monster.

"Well, let's say we're wanted for some… crimes. The one who sent this thing, thinks it's a crime, but I can assure you we are 100% friendly." he looked back at her. She was shaking, the baby still crying, with his bag in her hands. Thief, he thought at first, but he couldn't blame her. In front of her stood her (possible) biggest threat.

"What are you waiting for? Run!" he didn't have to shout this twice, as the woman ran away from him, towards the Manor behind the trees. With his backpack. The wolf mutt, the very one standing in front of him, just ignored him and followed the woman. no. he wouldn't let it happen!

Equal chances, he thought as he let the arrow go. He aimed for the head, but missed and ended up in one of its legs. To think he had been training very well in his free time. But it had the wished impact. The mutt turned its head, and faced Ron again.

"Hey, you! Come and get me!" While shouting this, he fired an arrow again, hitting its stomach. Now the mutt was very mad. Ron, realizing this, ran in the opposite direction, the beast chasing him, firing arrows while running. Somehow, he found himself in a forest. Up the hill, he could make out the figure of the Manor he and his two companions were heading to. He was leading this monster back to her and her child. He jumped in one of the bushes, to take some rest. He breathed the air heavily, and looked at the left arrows. Just five. Not enough to kill the thing.

While running, he had found the weak spot from the wolf mutt. Its neck. He had fired some arrows there, and the wolf had only winced at those hits. But it would be impossible to kill if he couldn't make that out. And the wolf protected its neck very well. An almost impossible task to kill the mutt was brought to him, and somehow, he hated the Capitol more than ever now: created by them, trained by them, abused by them, a gap where his friends held him in their hands, and now he would be killed by them. It was unfair.

But, as they say, life _is_ unfair. And that sentence had hit him at its hardest.

The wolf mutt was snuffling around, trying to pick up Ron's scent. He prepared to shoot, but then, he saw something he didn't expect to see. His backpack, lying on the ground, just dumped. He didn't dare to pick it up, for he could be heard, and could only think of one thing.

The woman and her kid were still around. And in danger if they didn't go away quickly. He felt the wolf mutt came closer, and was ready to fire, until he heard a soft _thunk_ as the beast was being hit by a rock. He came out of his hiding place, and saw the wolf growling in the direction of the stone-thrower. There now was free access to its neck, and Ron took advantage of it, shooting the arrow. The mutt got hit, yet it still stood tall. He fired another one, hit the wolf mutt and finally saw who threw the rock.

The woman who had been his guide for less than three hours was facing the monster on her own. Ron feared for her life as much as he feared for his. It buried one of its claws in her stomach, and he fired an arrow. Afterwards, he didn't know how he could have fired that, as it was pure instinct that had led him into shooting that arrow. But was a hit, bigger than any of his previous arrows, burying it deeper than any of his previous shots. A few moments, the beast still stood on its paws, and the next he fell down to the side, almost killed.

Ron ran up to the mutt and jumped on top of it, ready to fire another arrow. The last one. He fired it, and the beast under his feet whimpered a bit. The next moment, it didn't make any move anymore. Just after he jumped off of the wolf mutt, the beast started to disappear in thin air. The Capitol took it back after he killed it.

The wolf mutt was gone. For now. He looked around him. No more mutts. Luthor was merciful. He was given to time to breath, or he was close to another tribute, or Diana – crap, he'd forgotten about the woman that helped him! He dropped the bow and ran towards her. She was losing blood quickly, and was on the verge of death. He already wanted to go for his backpack, knowing the needed supplies would be in there, but the woman stopped him.

"Don't. I'm dying, don't waste any on me," she said as Ron gulped. She didn't want to be helped?

"You're a very brave woman." he told her.

"Corey… would you take care of him?" she asked him, choking up blood. He nodded – what else could he do for her?

"I will, ma'am. As if he were my own." the archer held her hand, and felt how life left the woman. No cannon because she's no tribute. Though Ron thought she'd deserve one, for standing up against that mutt while other would have fled. Now there were only two things to do: bury the woman and seek baby Corey.

After some time, he had her buried and make a grave for her. It was poorly done, and in the forest not many eyes would see it, but she got what she deserved. Her own place. In a stone, he had carved out following words with an arrow: _here rests a brave mother_. He didn't even know the name of the infant's mother.

Speaking of the infant, he had to find Corey. He had promised not to let Corey out of his sight, and to raise him, but in order to do that, he needed to win and convince the President to allow him to keep the baby. After searching almost everywhere, he gave up and picked up the bag. It felt heavier than it already was, and there were some holes made in it. He opened the bag, and found Corey in there. His mother should have placed him there to keep him safe, making those holes so the baby could breathe. At the moment, Corey was sleeping.

Not sure what to do, he put the baby carefully on the ground, and checked if everything still was there. All was in its place. He closed the bag, and put it on his back. Then, he carefully picked up Corey and walked further to Wayne Manor. She was going there for a reason. So he had to inform whoever she needed to see.

Then, suddenly, Wayne Manor blew up. From the distance, he saw the building emerge into flames, and though nobody could be inside, he went that way. He needed to; he felt he had to. For the mother and Corey. And whoever lived there. He didn't except them to live, unless they could go out early. However, they have had a slim chance of coming out.

Little Corey opened his eyes, and looked up at Ron. The archer looked into its grey eyes, as if the kid wanted to ask him what was going on.

"Corey…" he began, unsure what to tell the baby, who would probably don't understand what he was going to say, "your mother won't be able to be around you for a while. If something gets me too, you won't have anyone left. And you might reunite with your mother. Unless you really are a fighter – that way, you could survive the Games with me. If I come out victorious, you'll come with me to Eleven, starting a new life. Actually, our lives are now twined together, whether we like it or not. For now, let's hope we'll survive." the boy in Ron's arms blinked, as if it was his way to say he understood. He just stared into his grey eyes before walking on.

Behind him, he heard some noise. The same tune repeated all over again, somewhat in the distance. Knowing the sound, he changed his route and went straight to the noise. He reached the place after one minute of walking. Someone had seen him and had found it worthy enough to send him something.

This capsule was bigger than any he remembered from previous years. Which should mean it wasn't food, or medics. Hoping it was what he thought it was, he lay the baby on the backpack so he would at least lie comfortable (sort of) and sprinted the last feet to the gift. Once he opened the capsule, he found exactly what he needed. Thirty new arrows. He put them where they belonged, and showed Corey one of them.

"Well, buddy, looks like somebody's been watching us," he told him. A smile appeared on Corey's face, and Ron couldn't help but grin along.

Consider him lucky.

* * *

The elevator was shaking a bit, but it all seemed good enough to bring them down. Quit frankly, the only one not freaking out with each movement that could mean it had stopped working, was Alfred. He went to that place more than a thousand times, and was used to the elevator by now. The three teens, however, never ascended to Alfred's secret hideout, and thought they could die any moment. At some point, Bart carefully rushed over to Dick and asked him if it really was alright to trust him. Dick nodded.

"If it wasn't, we shouldn't have stayed here. Besides, he told us some classified Capitol information. What more proof do we need?" Bart already opened his mouth, but when he found he couldn't bring anything out, he closed it again. Nothing to say. Good. Now he could think.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped, and it had big impact on the trio. Diana immediately grabbed her bow and put an arrow on it, Dick slid his hand down his belt to find a birdarang and Bart ran up next to Alfred. The doors of the elevator slid open, en the four walked out of it, still ready for attack. What they saw, however, took their breath away. They were in a gigantic cave – a gigantic _hyper modern_ cave, which could be bigger than the Justice Building in the District together. They were walking on a platform with a enormous screen attached to the wall, divided into twelve sub-screens. The first eleven showed the tributes, the last one the Gamemakers. However, screen 3, 6 and 7 just showed a picture of the tributes. There were no cameras in there. But the most noticeable, was a giant Bat-symbol that could be seen on the main platform.

"It can't be…" Dick heard Bart mutter. Dick himself had lost his tongue for actually being in this place.

"The Batcave…" Diana said, just as impressed as her comrades. Alfred turned to the three tributes.

"Yes, this is the Batcave. This place is chosen by Batman himself."

"Why did he want a cave?" Bart asked, "I actually never understood that. He had enough space in Twelve and Thirteen."

"Well," Alfred began, "he needed a place where he could follow the Games from every tribute's point of view. From this cave, he also took over control from the Gamemakers at some points. He would decrease some storms and mutt-attacks, would send gifts the tributes, assuming these were sponsor gifts, and made the Gamemakers control room go haywire sometimes," he added the last part with a smile.

"You've known him?" Diana asked him, and Dick looked at him surprised as the butler nodded.

"Him, and Robin too. Though I've only seen that little bird once." he looked straight at Robin while saying 'that little bird'. Now Robin recognized the man as well. One time, Batman took him to the Batcave, but he never allowed the boy again after Robin made a ride around the city with the Batmobile. He gulped. If Alfred recognized him, would he tell Diana and Bart? He saw the man almost not visible shaking his head. Robin gave him a weak smile.

"But, eh, does the Capitol know this place?" Bart wanted to know, his gaze fixed on the screen that showed the Gamemakers. Alfred walked over to him.

"They know the cave exists, but they don't know where it is located. Why?" Bart pointed at the screen. Diana and Dick came closer, and now saw the control room. In the middle, the giant map of the arena. It was easy to spot the Manor, separated from the rest, a lone house at the edge of a forest. Above the manor of the map, a timer ran back from thirty seconds.

Easy message. They were going to blow up the Manor.

"Bart, get us out of here!" Diana shouted.

"Is there any way out?" Dick asked Alfred, who pointed at the east side of the cave. Dick nodded, drawing Bart's attention.

"KF! East side!" He knew what Robin was talking about. One second later, he brought them out of the cave, running to the edge of the domain, returning to get Diana and Alfred. First, he came out with Diana, and lastly with Alfred. Just in time.

*BOOM*

They were just at the edge of the domain, which apparently wasn't enough. The heat was almost unbearable, but Bart took them all to a safer place. At least, safer for now. They would have to watch their mouths, for there were now cameras everywhere again. Alfred sunk to his knees as he watched the manor he had lived in almost all of his life going up in the flames. They kept watching the manor burn down, until Bart broke the silence.

"We're sorry," he said, but Alfred shook his head.

"I should have known bringing you in would end up in me getting killed, or the Cave being destroyed. You just go ahead and try to win these Games. I believe the expression is: may the odds be ever in your favor?"

"Alfred," Dick began, "we're not going without you. You've proven yourself very useful, and besides, we need someone to lead us through the city. Are you in?" Alfred shook, once again, his head.

"I have my own business to take care of; you'll have to do this yourself, I'm afraid. I would like to live for a couple of years. Besides, how can a CEO be away from his work for a couple of days just to help some kids keeping alive. If you need me, just call. I work at…" he paused, knowing the three teens wouldn't know the company, "I work at the highest building of Gotham. Good luck, you three." he disappeared in the distance, the trio staring at him.

"Should we-"

"No, Bart. He doesn't want to. We can't force him to do something. That would be something some idiot from the Capitol would do," Diana said bluntly. Dick and Bart stared at her. She just called the Capitol citizens idiots! She merely shrugged.

"What? We can die here any second, so now's the moment to voice opinions." she was right. Only one out of eleven would come out alive, and the others would be forgotten, just like other years. Though Robin had a feeling this would be different. Naturally, a Quarter Quell is supposed to be especially remembered. But, he had this feeling not because this was the 100th Games – it was because of the tributes. He glanced a look at Bart and Diana. Both stood tall, proud, confident. Not the scrawny type you would find in those two districts especially. He could see they were toned with muscle, and they had that confident look in their eyes the would have seen in his. And if Dick would look at the other tributes, he would see the same thing.

These tributes were different than the other years. Now not only the Careers were strong, and prepared. Everyone was. There hung a dark shadow over everyone's faces, like they all had witnessed something tragic in their lives. Their morals were so high that even the two bloodbaths were killed out of pure self-defense. Everyone had an equal chance, something you didn't see often in the Games.

Just as they were about to move on, an arrow almost hit Bart, only a few inches away from his left ear. He jumped up, and the trio turned to face their attacker. But he had hidden himself between the trees behind them. Dick and Diana already thought to know who it was, and who the next arrow was meant for. Then, a familiar voice boomed over the trio. Loud enough to hear it, but also so they won't be able to track down where he was. The boy from Eleven had the advantage here.

"Hands up where I can see them, or you'll find yourself with an arrow in your romp!"

* * *

**_Woo! 5000 words in two days! New personal record! I would have posted earlier, but I was having this immense writer's block, and I don't really think it's over. So you can expect next chapter when this writer's block is over. Anyway, h_****_ow did you like this chapter? What do you think will happen next to Dick, Bart and Diana? Would you want to see more of our Careers Conan, Karl and Stephanie, or would you rather see more of Mergana and Logan (D5/D10)? And how do you think will Ron handle Corey?_**

**_Please review; it motivates me to go on with the story. Must warn you, I'm a slow updater. I don't have much time to write..._**


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